


Losing my Mind

by CharlieBravoWhiskey



Series: Prompted from Tumblr [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieBravoWhiskey/pseuds/CharlieBravoWhiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years later a text arrives for one John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From this [gif set](http://charliebravowhiskey.tumblr.com/post/25328634449/ladypikachu-and-after-all-this-time-i-finally).
> 
> I own nothing.
> 
> Nothing has been beta tested or Brit picked, etc, etc, etc.

> _And after all this time_ _I finally found a way to be alone_  
>  _I’m terrified to think that I may be losing my mind_
> 
> _  
> _Maroon 5 - Losing My Mind

**I'm not dead. Let's have dinner. SH**

Well, fuck.  After three years, John Watson decided that he has officially lost his mind.  A text.  From his best friend.  No, scratch that.  From his  _dead_ best friend.  Well, didn’t that just beat all?

A soft chime from the phone beside him startled him out of his spiral.

**Well?  Are you going to answer me or not?  SH**

Yep, still insane.  A second text from the great  _dead_  Sherlock Holmes.  What now? Is Mycroft going to suddenly appear out of nowhere dressed in a pink tutu?  

**John?  SH**

**John?  SH**

**Please answer me.  SH**

**I’m sorry.  I’ll be over in a few minutes.  SH**

John sighed and stood up, grabbing his cane as he limped towards the bathroom sink.   _Well_ , he thought,  _if I’m going to be meeting a ghost, I might as well look my best._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, who knew? Not I, said the fly.
> 
> Review if you want. 
> 
> Nothing it mine, Brit-picked or beta read. If you see something wonky, please let me know.

John stood at his bathroom sink, water dripping off his face. He stared at himself, examining the new scars, lines and the ever present sadness in his face. The past three years had been incredibly difficult for him. During this short span of time - John Watson had mourned deeply the death of his best friend - to the point that Greg Lestrade was threatening him with involuntary hospitalization; met, married and lost Mary Morstan to a fast moving cancer; and finally watching his sister drink herself further and further away from real life. 

It was a very painful three years but with Harry’s passing, Mrs. Hudson’s gentleness, Greg’s stubbornness and even Mycroft’s meddling, John was able to pull enough of himself together. Everyday still hurt, naturally. John briefly wondered if he should put Sherlock’s, Mary’s and Harry’s pictures away but thought better of it.   
Mary would’ve tsked at me, tweaked my nose and put the pictures back up on the mantle, John thought ruefully smiling sadly at himself. Oh, Mary. Such a wonderful person. I loved her so much. She didn’t deserve to die. No, John shook himself angrily, none of them deserved to die. 

John straightened his shoulders, wincing slightly and wiped the rest of water from his face. Well, let’s face whatever ghost decides to show up at my door.

John did not have to wait for much longer as a gentle, hesitant knock came at his front door. John’s hand stopped a few inches from the doorknob as an intense wave of fear gripped him. What if he was actually losing his mind? There was only so much that Greg and Mrs. Hudson could do for him. And while John was sure that Mycroft would help him - if John asked - he cringed wondering what sort of help Mycroft would provide. Another knock came at his door, more gentle and more hesitant if that was possible.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not here. I’m over-wrought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is mine, Brit-picked or beta-read.

“Just a second!” John cried out and silently chuckled to himself.  He must really be losing it, if he was actually entertaining thoughts that his dead best friend was coming back.   People don’t come back from the dead.   John had naturally entertained the idea that this entire time -  three fucking years! -  was all some sort of ruse and that Sherlock was somehow, somewhere working his way back to him.   But,  John thought,  that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought of.  I must be a complete moron or certifiable.   John quickly finished checking his reflection.  Satisfied that he was somewhat presentable, John limped to the door and threw it open, hoping to startle the jackass on the other side.  
  
And there standing on the other side of the doo, hand halfway to the door, r was none other than Sherlock Holmes, World’s Only Consulting Detective and looking very much the same since the last time John saw him.  John blinked once, twice and then three times before having his legs collapse and landing on the floor, the cane clattering somewhere behind him.  
  
Sherlock, hesitated before crouching down to John.  
  
“John?”  Sherlock said quietly.  
  
“I’ve lost my mind,” John said laughing a little maniacally.  “You’re not here.  I’m over-wrought.”    
  
“I’m really here,”  Sherlock said still quiet and remorseful.    
  
John reached out and pushed at Sherlock’s shoulder to test his hallucination hypothesis.  And then he pushed a little harder trying to make Sherlock topple over.  
  
“What are you doing?” Sherlock finally asked a little warily, trying to back up but finding no room.    
  
“I don’t know if I’m going to punch you, faint or fucking kiss you,” John said and pushed even harder at Sherlock’s shoulder.  
  
Sherlock had nothing to say to this, letting John push him harder and harder.  He was going to have a bruise in the morning if this continued.    
  
“I think I want to beat you into a bloody pulp,”  John said before brutally kissing him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
